The Speed of Love
by blc
Summary: Angela reflects on a conversation with Booth about Brennan, and things progress from there. Romance, eventual B/B. Disclaimer: Bones is the property of Fox & its producers. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

"You're not helping, you know."

I jumped, practically out of my chair, at the sound of his voice right behind me. "Jesus, Booth, you scared the shit out of me!" He just looked at me as I turned to face him, a serious expression on his face, and no apologies for practically giving me a heart attack.

"Where the hell did you come from, anyway?" I mean, he came out of nowhere, practically, I've got the corner of the doorway at the edge of my sight and I didn't even see him. He didn't answer, he just looked at me, his head cocked to the side, his hands in his front pants pockets as he watched me. It was kind of unnerving, his gaze pinned so intently on me. Is this what he does to suspects?

"You know, Angela" he said, voice low and soft, so that no one would hear him unless they were standing right on top of him, "every time you nag her about me, she's agitated, and cranky, and suspicious, and jumpy-- sometimes for hours. And lots of times, when you nag her about me right before we go out to a scene, she's so silent over there and on the way back, trying to keep her head in the game, that I might as well be by myself in the truck."

"Nag her about you? Why would I do that?" Okay, it was clear to me how he thought about her, but it wasn't clear to her, and I didn't think a little broad hinting on my part would hurt. I mean, they've been working together for four years, now, and she's still denying that she thinks about him as more of a partner. But it wouldn't do to tell him that I had him all figured out, too, he got as gun-shy about the "just partners" thing when people called them on it, together, too.

He snorted. "You're not dumb, Angela. But I'll tell you what. You're not working with all the information, as good of a friend to her as you are, and I'm telling you, now, that you need to lay off. I've got it under control."

Oh, for Christ's sake. He thinks he's got it under control? What, precisely, does he think he's got under control? "Excuse me a moment." I got up and closed the door, then the blinds. She was off teaching class anyway, so she wouldn't know that this conversation had taken place, but I didn't need everyone else in the lab watching, either, while I gave him a piece of my mind.

When I turned around, though, he was standing right behind me, so close I practically ran into him, except that he grabbed my wrists so fast I didn't see him move, and held me back from him right before I crashed. His mouth quirked in a half grin, his eyes amused, as he held onto my wrists and said, softly, "Like I said, I've got it all under control." He pushed me a few inches back from him, then let go, with another quirk of his mouth, and jammed his hands back in his pockets.

Okay, that was scary, and I consider him a friend, I know he wouldn't hurt me. But… does he always move that fast? My heart was pounding.

He took a step back and to the side, then walked over to the couch, and stood, cocking his head at me. "Sit." I needed to. The ground had just shifted here, in the space of what, eight sentences? So I went over and sat, and looked at him. Waiting.

When he saw I was settled, he spoke, his dark eyes boring into me. "You're a good friend to her, Angela, and I'm so thankful you are. I wonder what she'd be like if you hadn't been in her life. But… I'm going to tell you something you may not like to hear. I'm going to say it anyway, though, because I think you're a big girl, and can handle the truth. You're a good friend to her, Angela, but I'm a better friend to her than you."

He stopped, and looked at me, waiting to see how I'd respond, and of course, I took the bait.

"Booth! I'm her best friend! What the hell are you talking about?"

His eyes narrowed. "Her best friend, hmm? So, tell me Angela, why is it, then, that whenever I call her on the weekend, she's not out doing something with you? Explain to me, then, why after a hard case, she's home alone, working on her book and having nothing but hot tea for dinner? Why do you just roll your eyes at her when she hasn't had lunch? You could drag her out just as well as I can."

"Booth, I try, but she says she's fine, or she's busy…"

He narrowed his eyes again. "And you believe her? Or is it just convenient, because it gives you an out so you can concentrate on you and Jack? How about this… when was the last time you two asked her to go on a double date with whomever the jerk of the week was, so at least you could check him out and make sure that your best friend is happy? Because I know the answer on that last one is never."

"Oh." Well, that hurt. He's been taking blunt honesty pointers from her, I guess.

He leaned back a bit. He'd made his point—but he wasn't finished, yet. "Right. Oh. I'll tell you something else, Angela. You want the best for her, and I see it, and I love you for it, I honestly do, but… you're impatient. And distractible. And that's a bad combination with her. You push it too far, sometimes, get her completely on edge, and then you get distracted and go off on some other project, without steadying her and pushing her back in the right direction, and she wobbles there, without enough information for her to decide what to do next. You get her so freaked out, sometimes, that she'll sit at the opposite end of Sweets' couch like I'm going to pounce on her, or it'll take me ten extra minutes to get her to let me in with takeout, and it's just not helping. It's bad enough that I thought I was finally getting somewhere right before I got shot, and then I messed up and didn't call her myself, but… you can't be pushing at her, too. It just… it makes things worse."

"Well, I could have been more helpful if you'd just have said something to me before now," I tried.

He shook his head. "What, so you could just blurt out, '_Oh, sweetie, Booth totally loves you_?' Because talking about me to her like I'm a mere sexual conquest already goes down so well with her. Come on, Angela. If she didn't have some inkling, it wouldn't bother her so much. But you keep pushing, and it's going to backfire on both of us."

Oh, shit. He'd heard me talk to her about him? "But… no… Booth, I don't really say…whatever someone might have told you…" Of course, that came out before my brain even finished the part where he'd admitted he loved her.

He looked amused as he responded. "Hmm, let's see. '_Take a ride on that train, sweetie, hop the Booth Express_,' and then, what, '_he's your own FBI knight in standard issue body armor,_' or, '_Bren, you should tap that piece of hot FBI candy_,' or my personal favorite, the one that made her twitch every time I touched her for a week, what was it? That's right—'_denial's not just a river in Egypt_?' I hear a lot more than you think, and I'm here a lot more than you know." Oh, God. I was bright red with embarrassment, even as I reflected that this would be more than a bit creepy-stalkery if I wasn't already sure that he loved her in only the best way. His eyes narrowed then, and he looked at me intently. "I work alone on this, Angela, got it?"

I couldn't help it, I had to ask. "But, Booth… what if she never comes to her senses?"

I didn't expect him to burst out laughing, but he did, and then smiled at me like I was a small child who'd said something unwittingly funny. "Angela, she knows, deep down, how I feel, and she knows, too, how she feels. But it scares her that she's killed two people for me without hesitation, and beat the crap out of a third, and it scares her how enraged she was when she found out I was alive. I can wait. I'm good at waiting, very good, and I know, I think I can control, whether it's safe to talk, or whether it will end… everything." His eyes glinted with some set of memories, something so incredibly dark and painful that it seemed like the lights in the room dimmed for a moment before his expression shifted again, and he quirked half a smile at me.

"You're a good friend, Angela, but I'll only accept one partner in anything I do, and it's her, not you. She waited fifteen years for someone she could totally trust. I can wait for her to realize the rest of it."

I was still processing what he'd said, and didn't even register that he'd moved until there was a press of lips on my forehead and the door to my office was open again. Damn, he moves fast. Or as fast as he needs to, I guess—that's the better way to put it.

"Ange, baby?" I jumped again, as Hodgins came into the room. "Whatcha thinking about?"

I collected my thoughts for a moment, as I pondered what Booth had just told me. "The speed of love, how it's both faster and slower than the speed of light."

He looked puzzled, and breathed out, "Okay… want to clarify that for me a little?"

I smiled at him, and then answered. "You know, I really shouldn't. It's … not my job."


	2. Chapter 2

"I wish you'd stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Well, she'd caught me now, no sense in not coming all the way in, now.

"Stand just around the corner out of sight and watch me before coming in." She hadn't looked up from her computer as she said it, but then, she often didn't. "I know that you're there. I have for a while now."

"How long was I there, then?"

She looked over, and shot me a level, expressionless stare. "Today? This week? This month? This year? Last year? Do you want an analysis broken down by time of day, number of visits in a day, whether it's a late night or a weekend, whether we haven't talked in a few days, whether one of us has been recently shot at? Because it varies, as you well know."

Goddamnit. It was my own fault for thinking I could get much up on Bones, but I honestly didn't think she had noticed-- no one else did, but then, God knows I was still around because I was good at staying out of sight. I should never underestimate Bones' ability to hide her reactions to things, I guess. Which was, of course, why I watched, in the hope I'd see something unguarded, a little more clue into what she was thinking. I didn't say anything, just raised my eyebrows as I sat down on her couch.

"If it was anyone else, I'd have gotten a restraining order long before now." Her mouth half-quirked, and she let a little annoyance steal into her expression as she turned in her chair to face me.

"But it's me, so you'll put up with it?"

She snorted. "Something like that. Although it's a neat trick how you always manage to evade the security cameras whenever you enter and exit the building. You should teach me that, it might come in handy someday. Unless you swipe your access card on the platform, no one would ever know that you're here."

"Except you." She'd checked the security tapes? Well, who knew what she got up to when she was bored or wanted a break from whatever she was working on. I mean, she did crossword puzzles for fun. Hard, three hundred clue ones, that had no TV or pop culture references. Well, maybe a couple of weekends spent teaching Bones about clandestine activity could be fun, especially since it would mean close quarters and skintight black clothing.

She snorted and half-smiled again, cocking her head to the side. "I'm emotionally suppressed, Booth, not observationally challenged. There's a difference, you know." Okay, and she's telling me she's emotionally suppressed why?

"Well, can't blame me for wanting to gauge my possible reception, can you, Bones? I mean, you get pretty snarly when you're interrupted." The part about _'well, maybe I just like watching you_?' Definite restraining order material.

"I'm your partner, Booth, not a target. There's no need to scope me out before entering my office. You could just walk in-- you're a strong person, you can handle a cranky forensic anthropologist. Unless there's something you're not telling me about why you feel the need to scope me out." Her eyebrow went up as she finished. Okay, time to dodge that one. My own damned fault falling in love with someone too smart for my own good. It's getting harder to stay a step ahead of her, she was definitely picking up all my tricks and making them her own.

Okay, time to evade the question with another, off-topic question. "So you're saying I'm always welcome?"

She laughed. "More like I've given up being annoyed with you when you interrupt me. You usually have a good reason, and you usually get lost when I really want you to leave. Unlike some people." Her expression soured. If Angela's been at her again since our little talk, I'm going to kill her. Well, not kill, but definitely muzzle.

"Why? Who's bothering you, Bones?"

She turned her sour glance on me, then thought a moment, and answered. "Oh, just, Sully's going to be in town next week and he keeps calling me to see if I'll have dinner with him. I told him I was busy, but he keeps on calling."

My stomach dropped out on me, but I managed to keep my poker face on. At least _that_ part of my poker savvy stuck around. Sully's back? Note to self, there, Booth-- do _not, under any circumstances_, lose your temper and shoot something until he's gone again.

"I hadn't heard he was back," I said, neutrally. "He coming back to work or just in for a visit?"

She shook her head. "He has a meeting at the Hoover, so I presume he's thinking of coming back. He didn't really say, and I didn't ask. But it's quite annoying that he keeps calling me back, as if I'll drop everything after not hearing from him for almost two years."

"Really? I always figured you two kept in touch." She arched her eyebrow at me.

"I told the man I wasn't in love with him and wouldn't take a year out of my life to try to find out if I might change my mind. There wasn't that much to keep up with, under the circumstances." That's my Bones, blunt and painfully honest. When did tact cease to be on my list of desirable qualities in a mate? It was irrelevant, really, it just had. And when had I started picking up her anthropological babble? I mean, _mat_e?

"You never told me that before."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It was over, and done, and once I make up my mind about something, I don't feel the need to further analyze it. Which I suppose is why Angela is so dissatisfied with my level of 'girl talk,' as she terms it."

"Well, just tell him the only time you're available would be for coffee at the diner, and I'll show up in fifteen, twenty minutes, and have something vitally important on a case to drag you away on. That way, he'll stop bugging you, and you can get out of it with a minimum of fuss, and have an excuse to avoid him the rest of the week."

"That's a little duplicitous."

"Then I'll call him and tell him to buzz off."

She snorted and stood up, then stretched her long arms up over her head, her gorgeous shape shifting with the motion. "There's no need for that, thank you. It's rather annoying, his apparent presumption that I would of course jump at the chance to see him again. But I suppose the diner ruse would work perfectly well. If he calls back again, I'll let you know when I'm meeting him." What a relief. I'd always secretly worried about Sully coming back-- she'd seemed genuinely torn about leaving with him, and was quiet and sad for a few weeks afterward, and I'd been afraid to ask her if she had any regrets, not going, because I was certainly overjoyed that she'd stayed.

She shucked off her coat, and tossed it over her chair. "Come on, it's late, stalker-boy. I'll let you buy me some Thai food."

"Boy? Bones, if you're going to call me a stalker, at least use the appropriate term. Stalker-_man_, okay?"

She smirked as she slapped me while passing me to grab her bag and her jacket. "Nope. I mean, look at those socks, definitely a boy." What? I thought blue and red polka dots were pretty sedate.

She just shoved me, a little, when I slung my arm around her shoulder, but not enough to push me away, as I pulled her close enough to get a whiff of her hair and perfume-- but not before she gave me another swat on the chest.

"No hair sniffing, stalker-man." Oh, shit. She was definitely on to me-- I was going to have to re-evaluate my position, and big time.


	3. Chapter 3

I was just about finished going over the new benefits packages with the rest of the unit when my phone buzzed with a message from Bones. Well, it was almost lunchtime. "Okay, kids, read this stuff over again, and if you have any questions about the technical crap, call Rosemarie in H.R. I am not going to look up when your benefits vest." I hate this part of my job. I mean, I love my desk jockeys, they do good work, and why not, they're mine, after all, but all this administrative crap takes way too much time. "Make sure you sign the sheet before you leave, and last one out come stick it on my desk," I said, standing and grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair. They nodded and started attacking the lunch I'd ordered in for them, so I headed back to my desk, flipping my phone open on the way. Nothing like free lunch to make sure everyone shows up for the meeting.

"_Meeting Sully at diner at 1. 1:15_?" Amazing. She'd actually done it? She must be really annoyed if she's willing to let me in on it, too. She hadn't mentioned anything this weekend while we'd been prowling around the rafters in one of the old abandoned warehouses I like to visit just to keep my hand in, so he must have called after Sunday. Skulking was definitely more fun when it involved watching Bones in tight black pants crawling in front of me. She was good at it, too, although that wasn't really a surprise, she was good at a whole hell of a lot of things. And she hadn't said anything more once she'd called me on the stalking thing, which of course left me squirming about exactly how much she knew I'd heard. Shit. What I used to think was a good habit about not talking about the "us" part of work was now backfiring on me, because I have no idea exactly what conversations of hers she thinks I know about. Well, I don't suppose it matters, if she hasn't kicked my ass yet.

"_OK, 1:15_," I typed back, and then flipped it shut as I rounded my desk. Hmm. What do I have that looks like open paperwork that I can bring her? I rooted around until I found something plausible. Oh, yeah, the motion to quash a confession we'd gotten a few months ago. We did need to meet with Caroline to talk about testimony, but that was tomorrow, and he didn't need to know we'd already talked about it between ourselves.

The phone read 12:45. Just enough time for a leak and a shave before I head out. Thank God I have my own bathroom in my office, the guys would rag on me no end wanting to know why I'm shaving at lunchtime. Because, "I'm shaving so I can look good while I go interrupt my partner during coffee with her ex?" Not stalkery at all.


	4. Chapter 4

I saw him right before he entered the diner, his dark form shadowed for just a moment against the window to the side of the doorway. I'd chosen my usual seat at our usual table-- "our" meaning Booth and me, not Sully. Sully didn't look up as the bell chimed and the door shut again, just kept leaning over the table, and missing the hint of my crossed arms and lack of smile. I thought he claimed to have been trained in body mechanics.

"Look, Sully," I said, trying again, blunter this time. I'd tried Booth's "just try being nice," and it hadn't worked so far. "Any decision you make about whether to un-retire and come back to FBI field work should be based solely on you. I just don't have an opinion." As if retiring before 40 was responsible, or un-retiring as he called it, somehow made him so again, or made me interested in him again.

He leaned closer. "Come on Tempe, don't be like that. We had something special. We can have it again, you just have to say the word."

I drew a breath. "No. That's the word. I'm sorry Sully, but..."

Just then, Booth reached the table. "Bones! Hey! I practically had a heart attack when Angela said you'd gone out to lunch on your own, without me dragging you!" Bearing a smile on his face and some papers under his arm, he affected surprise when he drew even, and saw Sully. Sully's shoulders tensed a little. Interesting-- he never used to be tense around Booth.

"Hey, hey, Peanut! How's it going? Hey, welcome back, man!" Booth slapped Sully on the shoulder, then settled down on the stool opposite the table.

"Booth, man, hey!" He smiled politely, annoyed by the interruption. More annoyed than he ought to be. Oh. Sully had that same expression he used to have when Booth used to interrupt us and he probably thought that Booth was not just my... oh. Oh. "I'm good, man, thanks. Just in town to talk with some people about maybe coming back to the Bureau. Thought I'd have coffee with Tempe, catch up on old times a little, try to convince her to go out for a little dinner and after-dinner-entertainment." He was looking at me as he said that with what I suppose he thought was a charm smile, but out of the corner of my eye I caught the tic of Booth's jaw at the sexual reference so unsubtle that even I got it.

Oh. _Oh_.

Do they make glasses for not just emotional suppression, but straight out emotional blindness? Clearly, I need some. And here I thought he'd just offered to come because he was being a friend. An overprotective, alpha-male friend. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who likes to smell my hair when he thinks I'm not looking, but that's okay, most men do that, the hair-sniffing thing, it's just a biological male imperative that doesn't have anything to do with Booth's strictly platonic feelings for me. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who likes to touch me pretty much any excuse he can get, and who I've allowed to essentially keep pawing me because it's actually rather nice. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who also spends anywhere from thirty seconds to three minutes watching me from the shadows when he thinks I'm not looking, except I never really minded it after the third or fourth time because he was just concerned in that over-protective way about me. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who knew Sully'd hurt me the last time, and always seemed to show up when when Sully and I were about to... oh.

Oh. Shit. Angela was right. He does want me. He does. I'd talked myself out of it one too many times, telling myself that my own admittedly confused interest was one-sided, and now my brain wasn't playing along any more. Okay, don't hyperventilate. First, get rid of Sully. Then, get rid of Booth before he touches me and I pass out. Then, go hide in Angela's office until she tells me what to do. I can't screw this up. He's my best friend. I ruin every relationship, and every time he touches me lately, I practically faint, half with want and half with the need to hide it from him because if he gets involved with me, I'll just mess it all up. This is not good.

Booth leaned in then a bit, his voice apologetic, real Charm Smile firmly in place. "Well, I'm sorry to bust up your get-together, but Bones, Caroline called on that motion to quash and wants to see us, lickety-split." He pulled out the papers from under his arm and waved them generally between me and Sully-- they _were_ the papers for our meeting tomorrow. Clever. Oh, lord, I'd walked right into his trap by letting him help me today. I never should have called him on the lingering outside my office thing. I could have handled this on my own. Now I was going to have to spend time with him in thanks for his help, and really, it was help, because Sully was sitting back in his seat and looking at the papers Booth was waving.

Sully shook his head. "Well, when duty calls, needs must answer. Tempe, I'll call you later."

Didn't Sully hear what I said? I cannot handle this, on top of the fact that my professional, platonic, partner who hasn't been platonic in how long, ever? is now looking at me like a cat with a bowl of cream. Well, first things first. Get rid of Sully. This, I can do.

"No, Sully, don't. I am not interested in resuming a relationship with you on anything but perhaps a professional basis. I wish you luck in your decision. Please don't call." He looked shocked, then, and embarrassed to have had a witness, but he also looked mad, which worked for me so long as he stayed away. I stood, said, "I'm sorry, but I already tried telling you." And then I gathered my things, and headed out the diner door before Booth could touch me.


	5. Author's Note

Author's Note

**Author's Note**

I wanted to thanks everyone for their kind and generous reviews of this piece. I am definitely going to finish this, but things are getting busy at work and at home. I do have some half-chapters written, but between being slightly more inspired to work on some other shorter pieces instead, and being busy at work the rest of the time (pesky rent obligations, bah), it may be a bit before I post another chapter. Never fear, though. I will update.

I've been so pleased and delighted by all your reactions. I wrote these for my own pleasure, and have been having great fun doing so. That you're enjoying them, too, makes it all the more worthwhile.

So, thank you again, and I'll be back with something more on this in the next two weeks or so!

BLC


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